


Carbon Copy

by LokisonofLaufey



Category: DCU (Comics), Daredevil (Comics), Daredevil (TV), Marvel (Comics), Spider-Man - All Media Types, Superboy (Comics), The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: 5+1 Things, Background Relationship, Crossover, Humor, Language, M/M, Sassy Peter Parker, Tony Stark being Tony Stark, Well I tried, clone, do not post on another platform, slightly cracky
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-08
Updated: 2019-11-08
Packaged: 2021-01-25 06:29:39
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,058
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21351757
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LokisonofLaufey/pseuds/LokisonofLaufey
Summary: 5 times Ben was reminded that he was the clone, the outsider.+ 1 time he felt included in spite of it.
Relationships: Ben Reilly/Johnny Storm, Peter Parker & Johnny Storm, Peter Parker/Wade Wilson
Comments: 8
Kudos: 62





	Carbon Copy

**Author's Note:**

> In this verse, Peter Parker is around 20-22 years of age, which makes Ben Reilly about the same physical wise, given he was homegrown in a tube. There are some hand-wavy explanations going on here, where Peter and Ben are cool with each other. I’ve removed anything related to dimension-hopping and made Ben a science experiment by Oscorp, to keep everything in a neat, linear timeline.

1.

As far as favors went, this one wasn’t too bad. It had been a quiet night, and Ben got a chance to stretch his legs, as it were. He planned to make one last circuit around the city, standing in for the original Spiderman, before returning to the apartment Peter called home. Peter needed the evening to finish a class paper, and practically begged Ben to take up the Spiderman mantle just for one night so he could work on it. Ben almost argued that he wanted to take his own costume for a spin, but it wasn’t quite finished yet. In return for the favor, Peter would provide dinner. Hopefully he remembered to order the pizza by then…

“Babycakes!” came a shout from behind him, his spider-sense tingling a hair too late as a very solid body slammed into his back. Luckily he’d been standing on a flat top building rather than mid-swing when it happened. Strong arms wrapped around his waist and lifted him in the air in a crushing hug. He attempted to twist around, his arms flailing, more shocked than anything else, but whoever the other man was only laughed and dropped him to his feet.

“Fancy meeting you here, Sweetie Petey,” the new arrival purred in his ear, a hand pawing generously at his backside. Ben hopped to the side putting some space between himself and the stranger, his arms up defensively just in case he made another grab for him.

“Who the actual fuck are you?” Ben demanded, his voice coming out a pitched a bit higher than he would have preferred. The man, wearing a black and red suit similar to his own, cocked his head in assumed confusion.

“Huh. Didja fall and hit your head, Spidey? It’s okay to admit it; I know a thing or two about drain bramage.”

“What?”

For a moment, Ben forgot who he was supposed to be pretending to be. Maybe this was someone Peter knew, but if that was the case, what sort of relationship did the two of them have? Ben had a feeling the other masked man would have been making eyes at him and fluttering his lashed had he not had his face covered. He stumbled back a step out of pure reflex when the man leaned towards him, sniffing.

“Well, you sure don’t smell like my Spidey. So, which Spidey are you? There’s, like, fifteen different versions, I’ve lost count. Could’ve sworn I woke up in the right universe this morning...”

He muttered the last part, seemingly to himself, a hand coming up to rub at his chin thoughtfully. Ben just stared, utterly confused and waiting for his chance to make a break for it.

“Look man, I don’t know what’s going on with you and, uhm, I-I’ve gotta get going. So if I could just-”

“Wait a minute, are you a Spidey-fake? Sent to infiltrate my pants and my heart?”

The man reached behind him, fingers inching towards the katana strapped to his back. Ben didn’t stick around long enough for his spider-sense to react to that potential threat. Instead, he shot a line of web across the street and beat a hasty retreat.

___________

Almost an hour after the incident (and after Ben made sure to circle the city erratically enough to ensure he wasn’t being followed before returning to Peter’s apartment) found Ben and Peter chilling on the broken-down couch Peter has fished off a neighbor’s lawn, a pizza box more than half-eaten between them. Ben managed to describe how slow things had been that night between large bites of food, putting off the question that was burning in the back of his mind until they were both comfortable and full. He also spared a few moments for swapping Peter’s Spiderman costume for a more comfortable pair of sweats and a borrowed nerdy math shirt.

“So, Pete,” he broached the subject once he was sure the mood in the room was sedated enough. 

“I ran into someone during patrol. Or rather, he ran into me. Literally. Kind of a weirdo, wore a red suit. Ring any bells?”

Peter went still, a slice of pizza halfway to his mouth.

“I’m so sorry,” he said, voice strange and serious. “He didn’t hurt you, did he?”

“No, but… he copped a feel thinking I was you. Who the hell was that guy?”

Peter groaned, dropping his slice of pizza back in the box so he could cover his face with both hands. “Sounds like Wade,” he said, his voice muffled. “He’s my boyfriend.”

They’d never discussed that particular facet of their lives. Peter had decided on several reasons as to why he never mentioned it. He only knew Ben a total of five months, their relationship old enough to be somewhat comfortable, but still relatively new. Peter knew that Ben suffered more than the average person, struggling with his own identity while knowing full well that he was a clone. He didn’t want to add the potentially controversial and incredibly personal idea of his own sexuality into the mix, preferring Ben to figure out his own feeling first and without any outside pressure.

“Oh,” Ben only said. Peter waited with bated breath, thinking this revelation might be the one to blow up in his face. Ben had sort of a hair-trigger temper, which he assumed was a result of his frustration at his unique situation. Instead of lashing out, he appeared to mentally digest this newfound bit of information.

“How much does he know about you as, y’know, you? He called me ‘Petey.’ ”

“Quite a bit, actually. He knows who I am. Knows about Aunt May, though they’ve never met. And if I had my way, they never will. I haven’t said anything about you yet. Not… that I’m hiding you or anything, I just wasn’t sure how many people you wanted me to discuss you with.”

Ben waved him off, knowing Peter was doing his overprotective thing. Honestly, he wasn’t delicate or anything. He was molested earlier in the evening by a stranger that was apparently dating his twin. No big deal. If anything, Peter came first, he could do whatever he wanted.

Also, even he’d met May a couple times, so he preened inwardly at the knowledge that he beat out Peter’s boyfriend, and was actually considered the favorable choice between them.

“S’cool. Whatever. So long as he’s not a total freak or anything.”

Peter’s face twisted.

“Well…”

2.

Peter Parker and SHIELD didn’t mix very well, for obvious reasons. He certainly didn’t like the idea that a huge, secret, faceless organization knew everything about him down to his favorite hot dog toppings, when he spent years carefully separating his identity from his superhero persona. And although he quite happily waited for the day when the Avengers would finally ask him to be a part of their team, he wasn’t spending a whole lot of brainpower or emotional energy believing that SHIELD would allow it to come to pass. They had enough trouble keeping Tony Stark in line.

It was, however, because of SHIELD, that he discovered Ben’s existence. To be fair, it was actually due to a tip from Clint, letting him know that SHIELD had a certain someone in custody, confiscated from a raid on an Oscorp owned testing facility. Initially, Peter was (probably) never meant to know about his clone’s existence, but persistence and intimate knowledge of high tech security weak spots allowed Peter to discover the truth. Once the proverbial cat was out of the proverbial bag, Peter insinuated himself between SHIELD and Ben and refused to be moved.

Despite being indirectly introduced to Peter through a member of the Avengers, Ben had never encountered any of the team up close and personal. His knowledge of the world around him was half-formed, cobbled together from what Oscorp could manage to imprint in him from Peter’s own memories. He knew of the Avengers, but he didn’t share the same experiences with them that the original Spiderman had. He knew that Peter looked up to the members of the Avengers, hoping that he could one day be considered among them.

As it was, Peter felt comfortable enough, after a stretch of getting to know Ben, to decide it was time to show him around the Avenger’s tower. At least the areas he had access to. He’d been granted his own little lab for fun experiments (with the full knowledge that SHIELD could and would confiscate anything they found useful or particularly interesting should he one day develop anything worthy of their attention) and so that he didn’t have to keep nicking chemicals from his college’s science classrooms to make web fluid.

Peter said his hello to FRIDAY as he made his way down to the lab area, much to the confusion of Ben who actually jumped when the building’s AI responded in kind, and was just about to wave his keycard at his lab’s door when Tony Stark came around the corner.

The man’s hair was mussed like he’d been running his hands through it, and he was carrying a pad in his hand, nearly running into Ben because of the distracted intensity he was staring at it with.

“Hey kid,” he said, brushing something off the pad’s screen and still not really looking at either man in front of him. “What’re you doing here on your day off? Got a bug up your butt, had to come in and work it out?”

“Uh, hi Mr. Stark,” Peter motioned to Ben, intent on introducing him.

“This’s-”

“New haircut?” Tony interrupted, cutting Peter off and giving Ben a cursory glance. He either assumed Ben was Peter, or he was screwing with them both.

“No,” he could help the compulsion to touch his own hair in response. “No, I brought-”

“Oh, so you’re the Dolly,” Tony said slowly, finally giving Ben his full attention. His mouth curved into a smug smile.

Ben bristled, not quite understanding the reference but feeling slighted nonetheless. He clenched his fists, preparing for a fight. He was ready to punch the man right in the smarmy face if he opened his mouth and said something glib again. Peter looked alarmed, as if he could sense Ben’s growing irritation. Yeah, Tony tended to do that to people.

“If you were going to bring Attack of the Clones here you could’ve given me a heads up. I’d’ve gotten the others together for a family game night or something.”

“I just wanted to show Ben my lab,” Peter admitted quietly, feeling like he was standing between two unstoppable forces. He should have seen this coming. Ben was understandably sensitive about his origins and Tony… Tony was incorrigible and irreverent, and if he truly realized what he was doing, he was probably enjoying it immensely. It was a recipe for disaster and Peter had just provided all the ingredients.

“Don’t let me stop you,” Tony said smoothly. He wasn’t being purposefully hostile, at least not cruelly. He was, however, mocking an emotionally compromised clone. Peter hurriedly unlocked his lab and grabbed Ben’s sleeve before he could snarl at his mentor.

“Thanks, Mr. Stark, seeyaround!”

He practically dragged his seething clone in behind him, not feeling at ease until the door closed, sealing them in the darkened room. FRIDAY helpfully turned on the ceiling lights without being asked.

“Your coworkers are fucking assholes,” Ben growled, glaring out at Tony through the glass. Tony only wiggled his fingers in a wave and, with a playful wink, walked away, nose once again buried in his pad.

“Yeah, I know.”

3.

Peter’s relationship with the Fantastic Four was less stressful than that of the Avengers. For one thing, the “Four” in Fantastic Four was an integral part of their whole setup. Peter never felt like he had to impress them to fit in, like he was working on becoming a part of the team. He didn’t even bother jumping through hoops to prove himself; they weren’t recruiting new members. Period.

Once he got to know them, he fell into the group as if he had been a part of their family all along. An unofficial fifth member.

His friendship with Johnny was perhaps the tightest, closest connection he’d had with another person outside of his own blood relatives. That meant they argued and teased each other like brothers, getting on each other’s nerves just as easily as breathing.

After one notable confrontation, where Johnny unthinkingly said something flippant about underprivileged kids, Peter stopped talking to him for nearly a month. Sometimes the rich superhero friends he surrounded himself with either didn’t know or genuinely forgot that Peter himself grew up in near poverty and empathized heavily with their plight.

It took several unsuccessful attempts at wooing Peter back into his good graces until Johnny finally broke into Peter’s apartment. Peter came home after his classes and a brisk patrol to find the latch on his window busted sloppily. Though his spider senses didn’t so much as tingle, he still entered the apartment with caution.

Johnny had fallen asleep waiting for him, drooling into the cushions of his second-hand couch. Peter was prepared to roll him onto the floor and kick him out when his eye caught something on the table. It was a sloppy, lopsided, handmade cake.

“Sorry I suck,” was piped on the top in equally terrible handwriting, nearly illegible, and Peter immediately forgave his stupid friend.

Instead of giving him a hard shove, he sat on the blond instead. Johnny woke with a yelp, flailing a moment while he tried to suss out the danger. Once he realized it was just Peter, perched on his hip and still wearing his costume sans his mask, the tension immediately drained from his body, leaving him limp and loose-limbed like an octopus.

“Hey, man,” he said, sounding as miserable as Peter had previously felt. It looked as if he’d been missing sleep, but Peter didn’t have the mean streak in him that it’d take to enjoy that piece of information.

“I’m really, really sorry for being… y’know, me,” he frowned. “I might as well have athletes foot in my mouth from how often my foot’s in there.”

Peter just slid sideways, stretching out on top of him and pressing his face into Johnny’s neck.

“You’re a stupid fuck, Johnny,” he murmured fondly. “But you’re my stupid fuck.”

“Does this mean I’m forgiven?” he asked, tentatively looping his arm around Peter’s shoulders.

“As long as the cake tastes good.”

And that was their relationship. A fussy, clumsy mess sometimes, but an endearing mess nonetheless. And then Ben was inserted into it and things just got more complicated.

The first time Peter brought Ben around to see The Baxter Building and to meet his family away from home, Peter noticed after a few hours that Johnny couldn’t seem to stop glancing at Ben. He frowned, assuming Johnny was having trouble adjusting to the fact that Peter had a double running around.

He opened his mouth to hiss a rebuke Johnny’s way, to tell him to stop staring, it was getting rude, but Johnny beat him to the punch.

“Pete, your clone is really freaking hot,” he breathed out. And that brought Peter up short. They looked like carbon copies down to their random and numerous moles and freckles. The only discernible difference being Ben’s hair and piercings. Ben had bleached his hair like a teen home-dyeing for the first time away from his parent’s watchful eye, and he had several piercings up and down his ears.

“What the hell are you talking about, Johnny. He looks, exactly like me. He’s a clone. That’s what clone means.”

Ben’s eyes looked towards them momentarily from where he was engaged in conversation with Susan Storm, and Peter was certain he’d heard him. There was a tiny frown tugging down at his mouth, and a new line between his brows and Peter suddenly felt like shit for even saying it.

Johnny scoffed and rolled his eyes.

“Petey, you’re like the brother I never asked for. Please, you’re nothing alike. Would you just put in a good word for me? Not like I need it or anything.”

It was Peter’s turn to scoff. He waved for Ben’s attention and the other man ended his conversation with Susan to come over. He looked curious, all traces of annoyance with Peter wiped from his expression.

“Yeah?”

“My narcissistic friend here wants to bone you. But don’t worry, he won’t get very far. He’s too busy gazing deeply into his own eyes in the mirror to make a move.”

Ben was speechless for once, his face turning beet red before their eyes. Johnny’s face was red too, but only because he was furious.

“You’re an asshole, Parker. I hope Wilson gives you gonorrhea.”

___________

As it turned out, the two ended up hitting it off, much to Peter’s amusement. He’d walked in on them getting handsy enough times to know it was going pretty well.  
“So,” he said in a sing-song voice. He was sitting on the couch, a textbook in his lap, when Ben shuffled inside. He’d caught them kissing in the hall on his way to his and Ben’s shared apartment. Just his luck, one of the few times he’d decided to walk up the stairs like a pedestrian, rather than sneaking through the window, and he had to get an eyeful.

Peter had skirted around them, pulling a face that they wouldn’t see, too busy playing grab-ass and sucking on each other’s mouths to notice his presence. It was almost like watching himself making out with his best friend. Disconcerting.

“How was your daaaate?”

Ben was smoothing his hair back into place, his lips looking more red than usual.

“Good, ma,” he grunted at Peter sarcastically. “He’s a gentleman, treats me real proper-like.”

“He make an honest woman out of you?” Peter grinned, playing along

“Well gosh, ma.”

Ben settled on the couch beside him, and although they’d just been joking, there was still a faint pink to his ears. But he could give as good as he got. With a smirk, he lifted his legs and placed them in Peter’s lap, effectively covering the other man’s book.

“Did you know about his downstairs piercing?” he said with a wry smile, trying to shock Peter.

Peter only snorted.

“ ‘Downstairs?’ What is this, Fifty Shades? Who calls it that?”

He pushed Ben’s legs back down to the floor and rescued his slightly rumpled book.

“Wish I could tell you that I didn’t know about it,” he said, running his hand over the wrinkled pages. “He wouldn’t shut up about the damn thing when he got it. I’m surprised it didn’t get infected, what with him whipping it out to admire every five minutes.”

After a moment he cottoned on to Ben’s forward admission. His eyes narrowed.

“Is this payback for Wade?”

“Maybe a little bit.”

“Maybe I need to stop asking you for favors.”

“Hm. What if I get pierced down there too? That way he’ll realize I’m not you the next time he sticks his hand down my pants.”

Peter groaned, hands coming up to rub his face. Wade often had him reacting this way.

“If you guys just practiced normal greetings, like, I don’t know, saying hello and announcing your presence before fondling each other… that could be an option.”

“We’ll work on it.”

4.

Matt Murdock invited both Peter and Ben to an early lunch on the outskirts of Hell’s Kitchen. The city was too dangerous to dine in at the best of times, even under the bright sun of the day. And even though Matt was less than ten years older than both of the other men, he still felt an odd surge of protectiveness whenever they came into in his dark city.

They were in their civvies, enjoying a meal as regular people. To the outside world, a blind man was having brunch with a pair of twins.

Both Peter and Ben had lent their, not inconsiderable, strength and quick wit to a particularly tough case that Matt was struggling through. Although he was a solitary hero, he could accept aid on the occasion. Especially if it were coming from Peter. And bonus that it came with Ben included. The case wrapped up quickly once the two spiders put their minds to the mystery, and the bad men were locked away. Matt’s firm would represent the victim. It was status quo in the hero world, at least where he was concerned.

They chatted amicably for a few minutes, both Ben and Peter ordering a sandwich (though Ben ordered a different type just so he could stand out a little - the tiny things mattered to him) while Matt took small sips at a mug of burnt coffee. The younger men laughed together, recounting something they’d done on patrol the month prior. It made Matt smile to listen to. Both boys had such foul mouths and wry humor. Most other heroes in their circles usually rolled their eyes when Spiderman started talking, his jokes making them groan. But Matt secretly found him to be rather funny. Not that he’d tell him.

And now that there were two Spidermen, the puns were twice as bad.

His current predicament, however, wasn’t because he was stuck listening to the twin men cracking truly awful jokes with one another during a lunch date he’d organized himself. His smile was frozen on his face and he tilted his head down, trying to puzzle it out without drawing attention to it. But of course, Peter had the mind of a detective sometimes (that’s why he asked for the man’s help after all) and if he had incredible perception, then so did his clone.

“Something wrong, Matt?” one of them asked, voice colored with concern, and god, for the life of him… he couldn’t tell which one it was.

“Ah, no offense boys,” he said, a self-deprecating smile tugging at his lips.

“But which one of you is sitting to my left?”

One of them huffed a laugh, the one on his right, and he decided to ignore it.

“Uh, Ben,” the spider on his left said, tapping the glass tabletop. It sounded more like a nervous tic rather than him announcing just where he was seated.

“You mean to tell me,” Peter says, after a beat because the waitress decided on that moment to set their sandwiches on the table and ask Matt if he wanted a refill. He declined, politely.

“That your extra special blind hero senses can’t tell us apart from, what, our smell or something?”

Matt might’ve shrugged if he knew more about the intricacies of human behavior. He missed out on some of the smaller tells because of his obvious impairment, but his abilities more than made up for it. If he didn’t really grasp shrugging, it wasn’t really a loss. Instead, he turned slightly towards where he knew for certain that Peter was sitting now.

“You two were cut from the same cloth. In more than one way.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Ben asked, and Matt could hear the frown in his voice.

“Your hearts beat the same way.”

5.

Kon wanted so badly to punch something. But if he did, he’d break whatever it was he punched. That was the way of things.

Sometimes he very much hated that fact. He hated that he was born from the DNA of two very different men. He hated that sometimes his powers weren’t completely under his control. He hated that Clark got that panicked look on his face whenever he approached him for help. He hated that he could accidentally kill 90% of the Earth’s inhabitants, including his boyfriend. His very fragile (compared to him) boyfriend.

So instead of destroying something on the Kent farm (which would cause Ma Kent to give him the Disappointed Look), he used his TTK to fly out to Metropolis. His TTK wasn’t the strongest yet, it was one of his newest powers, and he was trying his best to hone it through practice. It was something even Superman didn’t have, so he regrettably pretty useless at teaching Kon about it.  
With a sigh, he looped around one of the taller skyscrapers a couple times before coming to sit near the top. Only specialized maintenance crew ever came out to where he sat, legs pulled with his arms folded on his knees, so he knew he wouldn’t be bothered.

When he needed space, he rarely stayed in Kansas, which was mostly comprised of nothing but space. But it was too familiar, too much the same, and he needed the anonymity of hiding amongst some of the tallest skyscrapers he’d ever seen. For a city with its own flying protector, people rarely looked into the sky without a good reason.  
So he tucked himself away, sitting in the shadow of a spire, and allowed his miserable thoughts to run wild.

Sometime later, around evening, something heavy thumped against the building.

“Oh,” came the exclamation of a slightly out of breath voice.

“I thought… I thought this building was, uh, unoccupied?”

Kon looked up to see a bright red and blue spandex-clad figure silhouetted against the setting sun. The other man’s posture said he was ready to find another building to land on if given a reason to.

“S’fine. I don’t plan on staying much longer.”

He fully expected the other man to leave, and was surprised when he dropped down beside him, legs dangling off the edge as if he was used to the precarious position.

“I’m Scarlet Spider, by the way,” he said. “Not usually this far from New York, but, y’know, needed a break. Did some sightseeing.”

Kon nodded, feeling the same way.

“Superboy,” he held out his hand and Ben shook it without hesitation.

“Like I said, I’m from a couple cities over. I’m also pretty new, so I’m not familiar with all the Costumes around here yet. You’re not gonna give me any trouble, are you? Good guy, bad guy…?” he tilted his hand back and forth in front of his face.

Kon snorted.

“Good guy, 99% of the time. I try my best. I’m pretty new myself.”

“I feel ya, man.”

Ben took a deep breath and swung his legs back and forth a few times, looking out over the city.

“Come here often? That’s not a come on, I promise. It’s just not… a place where people typically camp out, I guess,” Ben said. “Sorry, I’m an awkward turtle.”

Kon looked him over now that he was out of the glare of the sun. His entire outfit, head to toe, was a flat red in color, but he wore a short blue jean jacket over his shoulders. And if there was anything Kon could appreciate, it was a really cool jacket.

“This is kinda my mentor’s city. I just come here to clear my mind,” Kon shrugged. He stretched out and dropped his legs over the side as well. “Shit’s too much sometimes.”

“A mentor, huh? I just have the guy I was cloned from. And honestly, he’s just as much a dumpster fire as I am. Nice, but not the best teacher.”

He noticed Kon stiffening beside him and looked his way. Well, at least he turned his head towards him. Kon really couldn’t tell exactly where he was looking due to his huge eye lenses. The only thing the meta-human saw was his reflection looking back at him.

“I’m my mentor’s clone,” he mumbled. What were the chances? It wasn’t like hundreds of clones were running around, despite aliens and mad scientists dropping by the planet on a monthly basis.  
“No fucking way,” Ben clapped him on the shoulder and laughed. “So, like, when you say you’re new at this-?”

“I was born a couple years ago. In a tube. ‘Born’ being subjective.”

“Ah, well, you’ve got at least a year on me. Is cloning become a trend or something? I feel like I should know this sort of thing, being a science experiment myself. We’re you at least wanted?”

“Wanted?” Kon’s brows furrowed in confusion. “I was a weapon. They didn’t even give me a name. I was designation C-111514 until the Teen Titans pulled me out of Cadmus. That was where I was made.”  
He didn’t even think to hide this as most of it was public knowledge. Whenever he showed up somewhere with Superman, he felt curious stares and wondered if he was being compared to the older man. If he were being measured and found wanting just because he was a flawed copy whereas Superman was damn near perfect. It made his stomach twist with an ugly, jealous feeling.

“Same, really,” Ben said softly. He could hear the strain in Kon’s voice. Honestly, he was in the same boat.

“I feel like… I’m the slow twin. The one standing in my DNA donor’s shadow. Most of the time I agree with them. Spidey’s a ray of sunshine, and I just follow him around like a lost kid.”

Kon knew who ‘Spidey’ was just as much as Ben knew what Cadmus was, but the similarities were enough to inspire an immediate connection between them. Kon was more relaxed now, smiling Ben’s way. His tension had dropped away and he felt an easy kinship with the other hero.

“There’s usually a hot dog cart right below us this time of night. Feel like grabbing something to eat before we continue airing our grievances? I think we’ll need the energy boost,” Kon said with a wry smile.

“Sounds good to me,” Ben leaned forward, looking down as if he could see the aforementioned cart. His vision was good, but it wasn’t ‘see the ground from eighty stories up’ good.

“How’d you get up here anyway?” he asked.

“I flew,” Kon supplied, already kicking away from where he’d previously perched and floating in the open space in front of Ben.

“Oh,” he tilted his head in consideration. “I’ll race you.”

Before Kon could respond, there was a red and blue blur streaking down the building, Ben running down the side on only his feet. Kon couldn’t imagine what caused the strange man to stick so securely but he didn’t give it another thought as he turned and flew after him.

Less than five minutes later found the two men seated more conventionally on a nearby park bench. Ben’s mask was pushed up over his nose while he crammed an overly topped hot dog into his mouth.

“High metabolism,” he explained when he caught Kon staring. And if his cheeks were a little pink in embarrassment, Kon didn’t mention it. The enthusiastic way he ate reminded Kon of his speedster acquaintances, only less… revolting.

“Hey, do you know any other cool clones? I’m thinking we should start a club or something,” Ben announced when he finished his meal. And Kon had to admit, that didn’t seem like such a bad idea.

+1

Doombots were, in a word, annoying. Doctor Doom had unleashed what could only have amounted to nearly two hundred of the robot replicants in New York with the sole purpose of kidnapping several of the city’s top scientists. This included Tony Stark and Bruce Banner, much to Tony’s bemusement. He wasn’t a scientist after all, but he did have desirable robotics knowledge.

The problem was that the bots had a habit of self-destructing at random. This was damaging to the heroes, the people they were evacuating, and nearby buildings. Also, if their heads weren’t rendered completely inert, they had a habit of pulling themselves back together again and seamlessly blending back into the fray. And try as he might, Tony couldn’t hack their programming.

The imposters were incredibly strong, well armored, and had a veritable arsenal of weapons at their disposal. Thor had taken to smashing down on their heads with his hammer like an incredibly dangerous game of whack-a-mole. At least Hulk seemed to be enjoying himself, taking great pleasure in crushing their shiny silver heads in his giant green palms. Everyone else had to strategically fight them, leaning mostly towards simply blowing them up to the point that reassembling was impossible.

Due to the threat level of the robots, all hands were on deck. Unfortunately, the Fantastic Four were off-world or they’d be helping as well, but at that moment, the only heroes present were the Avengers, Spiderman, and Scarlet Spider. Even Doctor Strange was off “restoring balance” somewhere and couldn’t lend a hand.

Peter spent most of the beginning of the battle helping to usher bystanders away from the fight. He also used a great deal of webbing to hold up the crumbling infrastructure of the business buildings surrounding the heroes where they stood in the street. Chunks of cement and metal beams creaked in the breeze from where they were held aloft, threatening to tear free at any moment and plunge downward. They would hold (hopefully, best care scenario) at least an hour before his webbing dissolved, so he turned his attention to the fight. The faster it was over, the faster they could secure the area and make it safe again.

Sometime in the middle of battle, Peter heard Ben cry out in pain. He whipped his head around in time to see the other spandex wearing man tumbling from the sky, but he was soon lost in the rush of Doombots.

By the time the street was finally quiet again, all present heroes were still on their feet (even counting the limping Clint being supported by Sam) with the exclusion of one.

“Anyone see Scarlet Spider?” Peter asked. He couldn’t help the urgency lacing his voice. Once he’d seen Ben being struck down, he didn’t see him resurface for the rest of the fight and it was concerning. Super powers or not, he was still a mortal man.

Tony landed beside Steve and Natasha, shrugging and flipping open his mask. His suit held up fairly well against the onslaught, but there were pieces missing and a thin trickle of blood crawled down from his hairline.

“Copy Spider here,” Hulk grunted.

He was standing several yards away, plucking fallen debris off of the ground, his movements surprisingly careful despite his massive size. Peter hurried over to him, heart pounding in his chest, and a gasp forced itself out of him when he finally saw what Hulk was worrying over.

Ben lay limply amongst the rubble, very obviously injured. There was a seeping wound on his side, his suit blackened and burnt smelling, his blood stark against the slate-colored cement he lay on. That could be sewn shut and be nothing but a shiny scar within a week with his enhanced healing. But more pressing was the large, sharp shrapnel jutting through his left thigh from underneath him.

Peter’s stomach dropped. He was trapped between all-encompassing concern for his clone, and gut rending nausea when faced with the violence visited on the other man’s body. Even though he’d been Spiderman for several years now, seeing injuries this bad was still upsetting, especially on people he knew.

Out of the corner of his eye, he could see Tony speaking lowly to Hulk, patting his arm in either thanks for finding Ben, or reassurance that the smaller man would be all right. But that’s not what he was focused on. Peter knelt beside his clone, unsure of where to lay his hands where it wouldn’t hurt or startle him. He settled for cupping the side of his neck, nudging the man’s jaw with his thumb until his lolling head faced Peter.

“Hey, Ben,” he whispered, leaning closer into his space. Ben moaned, one of his arms flopping up in acknowledgment. Peter took the wrist in hand, fingers finding his fluttery pulse.

“Can someone help him up?” he called out to the heroes walking over to surround them, slightly hysterical. Steve came to kneel next to him, squeezing Peter’s shoulder before sizing up the situation. He inspected Ben’s leg, shifting it minutely to see whether or not the metal piercing the limb was attached to anything. Ben whined faintly, the reedy, high sound sneaking past his lips against his will.  
Satisfied by what he found, Steve slowly slid his arms beneath the vastly smaller man, ignoring his feeble squirming. He held him carefully, large hands warm and gentle, and after a moment, Ben relaxed.

“It’s all right, son. We’ve got you.”

Through his swimming vision Ben could see Peter’s masked face in front of them. He was trying to keep up with Steve’s long strides towards the helicarrier, while also keeping a watchful eye on his twin. He also saw the troubled faces of Peter’s colleagues as he passed.

His colleagues.

They were worried about him too.

The thought surprised him and followed him into unconsciousness.

___________

When Ben finally woke there was a faint beeping somewhere near him and his head felt like cotton. He blinked, squinting in the harsh fluorescent lights of the medbay. After a few moments of gathering strength and assessing his body (which felt like it was floating), he turned to face the room’s single visitor’s chair.

Peter was curled up in the chair, legs against his chest and head pillowed on his knobby knees.

“Petey,” he croaked, his dry throat making his voice crack. He wasn’t expecting Peter to jerk awake, as if he went to sleep anticipating danger.

“Ben,” was his response, a smile tugging at his lips. He scooted his chair closer, folding his arms next to Ben’s hip, and rested his head on top of them sleepily.

“How long was I out?”

He moved to rub his face, but the cannula attached to his forearm tugged uncomfortably. He frowned a little, not remembering when he’d collected it. That was just as well, he hated needles and IVs. If SHIELD ever decided they really wanted to experiment on him, they were shit out of luck. He’d never let them get close enough to draw blood.

“Only a few hours, really. You were rushed into surgery, and the docs couldn’t get the anesthesia dose quite right. You woke up maybe three times right in the middle of it, mumbling something about wanting water. Asking for Johnny,” he shrugged despite the pink rising in his clone’s cheeks. “It was kinda cute.”

“If they couldn’t figure that shit out, then why don’t I feel anything?”

If his and Peter’s body were a mystery, then he should at least feel a twinge of pain due to inadequate medication. Instead, he just felt heavy, like he was wearing a weighted blanket all over his body. And his head was muzzy, his thoughts a little disjointed.

“That’s because you’re being given a Captain America size dose of morphine. As far as they can tell, all three of us have similar metabolisms. That’s why we chew through stuff like painkillers super quick.”

“Mm,” he acquiesced, closing his eyes. He was as tired as Peter looked.

“I change my mind about your coworkers,” Ben said after a long pause of silence where only the heart monitor periodically chirped to fill in the void. “They’re not all assholes.”

Peter chucked quietly into his arms.

“What makes you say that?”

“They were pretty nice to me. Y’know, after I got flattened by a robot. Mr. America himself called me ‘son.’ I’m honored. I’m going to salute him every time I see him from now on. Unless that was a fever dream…?”

“That happened,” Peter assured him, his voice amused. “That’ll make his uncomfortable though, don’t do that.”  
“I also remember really big, green hands. Tell Banner I said thanks.”

“Tell him yourself, ya goomba. I’m sure he’ll appreciate the gratitude. I don’t think he hears it enough.”

Ben hmm’d again, eyes still closed. He was well on his way to sleep when he felt Peter’s cold fingers wiggling under his hand until he relented and curled his own fingers in between Peter’s.

“You sound surprised that they care,” Peter whispered, closer to the head of his bed now. Ben cracked open an eye and found half of Peter’s torso propped up on the bed as if he were slowly oozing into it with him.

“Well, you try playing second fiddle to their favorite webhead.”

He hadn’t meant it to come out so annoyed, but there it was. He was still insecure about his place in the world, and sometimes it felt like certain situations were designed to remind him that he was a clone. Not the real deal. Second place.

“You’re really dumb, sometimes.”

Peter gave up the ghost and flat out climbed into the bed. He toed off his shoes before snuggling up against Ben’s prone body.

“Which is hard to believe, since that you practically have my brain.”

He tucked his face against the side of Ben’s neck, looping an arm around his waist but being especially mindful of his injuries. Ben subconsciously leaned into the contact, hungry for Peter’s approval without having thought about it.

“I’m going to talk slowly so you can understand me. So it can soak in.”

Peter’s breath was warm against his skin and Ben felt at home here. Despite the insults Peter was paying him.

“If they didn’t like you, I wouldn’t hang out with them. We’re a package deal.”

“But what if they ask you to join them?”

“If the invitation’s not to both of us, it’s to neither of us. You can quote me on that. Put it in the Bugle. Rub it in their faces.”

And Ben felt a coil deep in his belly loosening. A sickening, metaphysical tumor that he’d felt since day one that told him that he wasn’t ever going to be enough. If Peter heard the hitch in his breath he didn’t mention it, only rubbed his chilled nose against Ben’s neck and squeezed him just a little tighter. Peter’s approval was like a ray of sunshine, and he absorbed it happily. Although Johnny never made him feel like he was a carbon copy of his best friend, it was really Peter’s support and acceptance that he really craved.

And now that he had it, he was finally at peace.


End file.
